Author: Robyn Carr
Laine shrugged. “Don’t make me out to be too possessive. I knew I’d have to give him up to a wife eventually. I just didn’t realize he’d decide to get married when he was twelve.”
Genevieve laughed at her. “We were pretty young. I could have waited a couple of years, but Pax—”
“Fell hard,” Laine interjected. “Hard and fast.”
“He’s always like that—when he decides he wants something, he’s single-minded. A lot like his twin. How’s the arm, Lainie?”
She flexed and straightened it as if on demand. “Better. I haven’t been able to do a push-up yet, but I’ve been working out in a dojo and getting some acupuncture. I think if the girls didn’t wreck me today, I’m in pretty good shape.”
“You look wonderful,” Genevieve said. “Something in the water out there on the coast?”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “Fish. The sun just made its debut a couple of weeks ago. Did Pax tell you? I’m doing a little part-time investigative work for the sheriff’s department. And the Bureau has sent me a little work—nothing big, but enough to keep me busy so I’m not sitting around, just waiting for something to happen. As it turns out, I’m not really crazy about time off.”
“You never have been, but then you’ve never been shot before. And even though you and Senior have always had your issues, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as angry as you were at Christmas.”
“I hope I apologized for that. I shouldn’t have put you and the girls through that hideous shouting match.”
“You apologized two or three times and each time I told you I didn’t blame you for being angry. He crossed the line, suggesting a commendation for saving lives wasn’t impressive or important. Sometimes I just don’t know what’s the matter with that man.”
“Aside from being an arrogant ass, not too much....”
“I encourage Pax to ignore him, but let me tell you something—he won’t talk to my daughters that way or he’ll answer to me.”
“But you had to take them out of the room because I was yelling and Senior was giving it right back to me.”
“I took them out of the room to explain that tempers were lost and that their grandfather behaved very badly to you. We’re very proud of you. We’re all very proud of you. Sometimes a little worried, but proud. That six months undercover somewhere that turned out to be Oregon, that was scary. The FBI is so good about checking in, letting Pax know that you were all right, but until it was over we had no idea what you might be doing or where you might be doing it. I just hope I can be as brave as your mother was—I hope I can encourage my daughters to do what makes them happy.” She took a sip of wine. “Judging from the past week, I don’t think it will be either music or dance.”
Laine laughed. “That does seem kind of obvious.”
“But you knew at an early age. That’s so lucky, isn’t it? We all live for your visits, Laine. You have to know that.”
“You’ve always done that, made me feel welcome when I’m sure I disrupt everything. I know I’m not easy,” she added reluctantly.
“You’re a cop. An agent,” Genevieve said with a shrug. “A twin. I knew what I was getting into.”
Laine cocked her head and studied Genevieve. “Have you changed?”
Genevieve shook her head and just laughed.
“Are you pregnant or something?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m done with that—two is enough for us. Two of our own and the thousands Pax treats and I volunteer for.”
Laine burrowed back in the elbow of the plush sectional and gently swirled her wine. “Something’s different about you,” she said. “I’m trying to figure out what it is....”
Genevieve laughed again. “Auntie Lainie, it’s not me. It’s you.”
“Me? I’m the same! Nothing different about me.”
“Except the radiance. The shine. The calm. You’ve always been very cool on the outside, but it doesn’t usually feel like it goes too deep.”
“Well, like I said, I’ve never taken an extended leave before. And I might have a better appreciation for living. I have to keep that in perspective....”
Genevieve was shaking her head. “You’re in love.”
Laine was shocked. “Bull pucky,” she said. “I have a guy, that’s all. Not my first guy, either. Though I haven’t had many good ones.”
“You’re in love. Tell me about him. Everything. The secret things.”
Laine sat straighter. “Okay, you’re totally different. You never swore, you never called people dicks, you never asked me about guys or secret stuff. What’s going on here?”
Genevieve took a breath. “We never spend time alone together. You just didn’t see me,” she said. “It’s all right, I completely understand it. If some interloper came into my life and said she was taking my place as my sister’s new best friend, I wouldn’t be impressed or real accepting. I wouldn’t like that person a lot.”
“Did I treat you like that? Like you were an interloper?”
“Oh, of course not,” Genevieve said, lifting the wine bottle and tipping it over Laine’s glass. “You’d never do anything to hurt Pax—he’s your best friend. No, you’ve always been very respectful. Cordial. Tolerant.”
Laine gasped.
Genevieve smiled. “Wallpaper,” she said. “I was wallpaper—something in the background. You could see the color but not the pattern. Sometimes I felt more like a mother-in-law than a sister-in-law, but I knew you’d come around. And see? You came around. You finally have more than one best friend!”
“What the hell...”
“Pax had you and me. Not you or me. I had my sisters. But you—you had Pax. Only Pax—and you were so bonded to him. Closer than just brother and sister—like the other half of each other.”
“My mother,” she said. “There was always my mother....”
“Not the same,” Genevieve said, shaking her head. “You’ve always shared your mother, since before birth. And now you’re in love. Oh, you can deny it if you want to, but you’re so gone it’s awesome. I want to know what happened!”
Laine thought for a moment and then she said, “There was this guy in town and I kept running into him. I knew he liked me—eyes, body language, he was obvious. I’m a trained interrogator, you now. But he was holding off. So I asked him out. And then I might’ve fallen for him a little bit. Even though we have nothing in common. Nothing. Well, except maybe the way we are together.”
“Tell me how you are together,” Genevieve asked, looking a little wild-eyed.
Laine frowned. “Only if you promise never to tell me how you and Pax are together....”
Genevieve giggled and pulled the throw from the back of the sectional and covered their legs. “Promise,” she said.
“Are you sure it’s me?” Laine asked. “Because I think this is a new side of you!”
“It’s you,” she insisted. “Now hurry up and tell me the good stuff before Pax gets home and distracts us.”
“Okay. All right. Well, he’s got the most amazing green eyes I’ve ever seen. And he’s strong because he works on cars, but not athletic—not into the same stuff I’m into. And he’s very interested in my self-defense maneuvers, challenging me all the time, because he’s just a guy, like Pax.... So I’ve had to throw him a couple of times. Which I think he secretly likes. And then there’s a whole bunch of other background stuff that makes us even more opposite....”
“But how does he make you feel?”
“Like the only woman in the world.”
“Oh.” Genevieve sighed. “I know that feeling!”
Pax walked into the house at midnight. He found his wife and sister snuggled under a throw on the couch, a couple of wineglasses on a tray on the floor. He bent over and picked up the wine bottle and tilted it. They’d almost killed it.
This was something he thought he’d never see—his sister cozied up to his wife, asleep. They didn’t actually dislike each other, but they’d never really taken to each other. Until tonight?
He noticed Genevieve looking at him through barely opened eyes. She was smiling. It was a sly, secret smile. He had known for a long time that his wife admired Laine and wanted to be closer. But Laine was a pill.
Apparently while he worked late at the hospital, some sort of magic had happened between his two most beloved women.
Eleven
Al got a big kick out of Eric. He always had. That Eric—he was at once serious and easygoing, a rare and welcome combination. That’s why when he was looking for work, looking for a change, he’d often find himself back at Eric’s garage. This time, this new town suited him fine.
While Eric’s girlfriend was back East visiting family she was texting Eric pictures of herself and her nieces making faces, painting their toenails blue, eating pizza or ice cream, dressed up in tutus—all of them, including Laine. Eric showed Al every one. Then she returned to Thunder Point and Eric seemed to go missing. He left the station early and gave Al the keys to the tow trucks.
Al was growing fond of the little town. He now had several acquaintances, folks he saw almost daily. He liked the diner for breakfast and got to know Gina and the owner, Stu. Mac, the deputy, was a regular presence all over town. Now and then he saw Hank Cooper and he spent a little time at the beach if he wasn’t at work, just to sit out on the deck at Cooper’s to check out the morning or watch the sunset. And there was Cliffhanger’s at the marina for a fancier meal. He figured out right off the bat that Ray Anne was a regular both there and at the diner so he began to watch for her, which wasn’t hard—now that she knew Al’s work hours Eric had confirmed that she seemed to need a lot more gas than she had in the past. She was a consummate flirt and Al never got tired of attention from a pretty woman. He could guess she was as old as he was, possibly held together with duct tape and bailing wire just under those tight clothes, but she sure looked good for a woman of a few years. He liked looking at the girls, but he couldn’t quite get interested in women who could be younger than his daughter, if he had one. Ray Anne had a mature sense of humor and it was clear she’d been around the block. This was good for him, since he’d probably been around a few more blocks than she had.
“What does a man like you do on days off?” she asked him when they were sitting in the diner one day.
“You’re looking at it¸” he said. “Nothing too exciting. Sometimes, if I have a project, like a salvaged car to work on, Eric welcomes me to use his shop. Then he expects first bid on a restored vehicle. And he’s got a kid working for him—Justin Russell. He has me training him.”
“How’s that working out?”
He shrugged and said, “It’s going okay. He’s seventeen.”
In fact, it was working out great. Al was getting attached to the kid. There was a time—a very long time ago—when he was a young man that he’d expected to inherit his father’s farm in Iowa, settle down and have a bunch of kids. While his father had been pretty harsh, Al was a patient man. Even though he had only a sister, he and his young wife thought a big farm family would suit them. Then the marriage didn’t work and that idea limped into an uneasy death. But that was a long time ago and it didn’t mean he had stopped appreciating the humor and challenge of kids even though he obviously wasn’t meant to have any.
The more responsibility Al gave Justin, the more Justin warmed up to him. Al not only showed Justin how to service the cars and trucks, but also had him filling out the paperwork for invoices. “This brake job is four hundred, one fifty is parts, the rest labor,” he’d informed the teenager. “Then figure the tax and I’ll show you how to run the credit card because no one has cash anymore. We do a few of these together and you’ll be president of the company.”
